


Something Beginning With

by slightly_ajar



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cairo Day 2019, Day 5 close calls, Fear of Heights, Found Family, Friendship, Vertigo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 06:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_ajar/pseuds/slightly_ajar
Summary: This was written for the day five of the Cairo Day celebrations on the @Macgyvercairo blog on tumblr for the theme Close Calls.Mac likes to live his life on the edge.  He loves the thrills and spills of being a Phoenix agent.  Being literally on an edge though?  That’s another matter.White noise filled Mac’s mind, filled his entire being.  The word ‘no’ repeating over and over again until it stopped being a word and was just a senseless hum like his fear had become tangible and was vibrating at frequency that produce a piercing shriek.





	Something Beginning With

The view was beautiful. 

One might even describe it as breath-taking without feeling that one was descending into hyperbole. The valley floor was thick with lusciously green grass and trees and was cut through by a meandering stream of icy blue water. The cliffs on either side of the vista were imposing slabs of granite that had weathered an untold numbers of winters, indomitable slopes of rock that only the hardiest plants and toughest animals tried to make a home on. It would be a beautiful place to hike through or to camp at and watch the stars. It was probably stunning when it snowed. 

Mac would have loved to take the time to appreciate the scenery but he was hanging onto a steep slope just near the edge of one of the beautiful, deadly cliffs that looked over a very, very long drop. Mac couldn’t think about how far away the ground was. He couldn’t actually think at all. 

His toes were digging into crumbling soil inches from where the loose rocks ended and the sheer drop began. He had an arm around Desi, who had her arms around Bozer, whose hands were clutching Riley, who was clinging to Leanna, who was hanging onto the base of a tree at the edge of the slope that ran down from the clifftop they’d been standing on. 

Mac had thrown his improvised grenade at a drone holding the coordinates of a consignment of illegal weapons on their way to be melted down. The drone was taking the information to a very bad man hoping to intercept the convoy to reappropriate the reappropraited guns for very bad purposes. The grenade worked, the drone was destroyed, but the edge of the cliff Mac was stood on crumbled under his weight at the shockwave of the blast and he had overbalanced and slid on the rolling gravel towards a sharp drop and an unhappy ending. Desi had grabbed him as he fell but the ground had collapsed under her too and as she’d yelled in fright Bozer had reached for her, then Riley for him, then Leanna…until they found themselves forming a human chain down the unstable incline. They were like a line of paper dolls, interlinking in a chain that started, or possibly ended, depending on how you looked at it, with Mac digging his toes into the unsteady ground with a precipice of hundreds of feet opening less than a hands breadth away. 

The cliff had seemed like a good place to intercept the drone. If he didn’t plummet to his doom Mac thought that he might have to review his decision making process. 

White noise filled Mac’s mind, filled his entire being. The word ‘no’ repeating over and over again until it stopped being a word and was just a senseless hum like his fear had become tangible and was vibrating at frequency that produce a piercing shriek. His tense muscles tried to anchor him, feet digging into the earth, fingers of his right hand holding onto a large rock that was still embedded into the ground, his left hand gripping the fabric of Desi’s jacket as his arm circled her waist. A layer of skin must have been taken off his right and as he’d fallen because he was vaguely aware of his palm stinging but his terror was drowning everything else out, even his bodies automatic reflex of breathing, with each breath feeling fought for and inadequate. 

“Mac?” Leanna’s voice filtered through the noise inside his head, her tone suggesting it wasn’t first time she’d called his name. “Matty’s sending exfil, I’ve explained that we're,” she paused as she thought of a way to describe their situation that wouldn’t sending him spiralling back into catatonic panic, “we’re not going to reach our original exfil coordinate. She’s sending a rescue team ASAP. We just have to hold on, they’re coming for us.” 

Mac looked up to Leanna and nodded in thanks. He could see from their position and the angle of the slope they were resting on that they wouldn’t be able to climb to safety, their only option was to wait. 

“So we’re here for the time being then?” Bozer asked. “Literally hanging out?” 

“Looks that way.” Riley answered. “This is not how I planned on spending my evening but I suppose this job is all about going with the flow. Is everyone all right? Nobody’s hurt?” 

They were stained with dirt, dishevelled and shaking but everyone answered that they were okay. 

Mac did his best to check the condition of his own body, he was aware of the scrapes and bruises he had picked up as he’d fallen but couldn’t feel any more serious or potentially dangerous injuries. 

“We should still do some of the stuff we planned to do this evening.” Bozer said, his jaw set the way it did when he was determined. He wore his Supportive Friend expression, the one that usually came with offers of trips to the movies and home cooked three course meals. “Tonight is games night, right? We can have games night right here.” 

“You want us to play Monopoly while we’re stuck on the side of a mountain.” Mac couldn’t see Desi’s raised eyebrow but he could hear in her voice that it was there. 

“No, I don’t actually carry board games around in my pocket, but we could still play some games. I think it’ll help take our minds off things and keep our spirits up.” 

“I’m all there for keeping things up right now.” Riley said. 

“Good, that’s the right attitude Ri.” Bozer managed to give Riley a thumbs up while still maintaining his hold on her legs. “I’ll go first. I spy with my little eye something beginning with C.” 

“You have got to be kidding me.” The vibration of Desi’s low protest hummed against Mac’s arm where it rested against her ribs. 

“I am absolutely serious right now. Something beginning with C people, is anyone going to guess?” 

“Is it something counterproductive?” 

“No.” 

“Complete waste of time?” 

“No.” 

“Certain death?” 

“Desi, you don’t seem to be on board with the whole ‘taking our minds off of our current situation’ purpose of this exercise.” Bozer voice rose half an octave in consternation. “What can you see that starts with the letter C?” 

“Crushing chest wound?” 

“I don’t see one of those!” 

“Wait.” 

Bozer’s eyes narrowed in confusion, then widened in understanding. He opened his mouth to respond. 

“I think we should try a different game.” Riley interrupted. “This one clearly isn’t working. How about Appropriate Song Titles?” 

“I like that game,” Leanna said, helping Riley to lead the conversation away from the clash of personalities that was brewing below her, “how about Edge of Glory?” 

“Nice! Livin’ on the Edge.” Riley suggested. 

“Rocky Mountain High.” Bozer said. 

“River Deep, Mountain High.” 

“Defying Gravity.” 

“Free Fallin’.” 

“Falling Into You” 

“I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.” 

“Could we maybe not use songs with the word ‘fall’ in the title? Please?” Mac was pleased about how normal his voice sounded. His words had been a little strained but when he had managed to make his brain and throat work together to produce sounds that existed in the English language he had sounded like himself. He felt like his awareness of the drop behind him had heightened his perception of the sensory information around him. He could hear the rustle of the leaves in the tree Leanna clung to and smell the damp odour of the earth the landside had churned up with acute clarity, and he was sure he could feel every tiny stone beneath him pressing their sharp edges into oversensitive skin. Every time he breathed those stone would shift and threaten to start an inexorable journey over the edge behind him, taking him with them. The left side of his chest was protected from the hard points of movable little rocks by Desi’s body. His arm was around her with his chest on her lower back and his head resting between her shoulder blades. It was awkward position to be in with someone he met only met a few short months ago and who he was still getting to know. Their position wasn’t sexual but it was intimate and if his body hadn’t been taunt as a violin string with fear he would have felt distinctly uncomfortable. 

“Wake Me When it’s Over.” Desi offered. 

“Isn’t that a Willie Nelson song?” Riley twisted her neck to stare down at Desi. Her cheek was streaked with dusty lines with the red flash of a graze marking her cheekbone

“Yep. Do a few stakeout with Jack and you get pretty well acquainted with all of Willie Nelson’s back catalogue.” 

“He made you listen to his CDs too then.” Riley smiled, a sad softness around her eyes. “It’s good to know he didn’t just do that to us.” 

“I got my own back. We made a deal where for every CD he played I got to listen to one of my own so I brought my original Broadway cast soundtrack of the musical Rent.” 

Leanna’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “You made Jack listen to Rent?” 

“The every note. More than once. I think he started to like it by the time that op was over.” 

“No!” Leanna’s jaw dropped then curled up into a grin. 

“Next time you talk to him ask him how many minutes there are in a year. He’ll be able to tell you but he’ll have to sing it.” Desi said with a wink. 

“Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes. Five hundred, twenty five thousand, moments so dear.” Bozer sang then gave a toothy grin. “I happen to be partial to many different types of visual arts. What’s not to love about a contemporary rock opera based on a beloved classic?” 

“Maybe we should play Anywhere but Here?” Mac suggested, thinking that it might be prudent at this point to stay away from any more song titles. “I’d rather be at sea level. Below sea level. Maybe in Denmark where the average level of the ground is seven meters below the ocean. The tulips are supposed to be lovely at this time of year.” 

“If I could go anywhere at any time I’d like to be a kid again.” Bozer said “I’d like to be sitting on my front porch on the first day of summer vacation with all those school free weeks stretched out in front of me. Do you remember how that felt?” He looked down at Mac, who nodded. “All those days laid out in front of you full of possibility, goofing off and no homework.” 

“I’d be flying with my uncle. Sorry Mac,” Leanna tipped her head in a gesture of apology. “I know you were hoping for ground based ideas but the first time I flew with him I felt like Princess Jasmine in Aladdin. The whole world was there in front of me and I felt like I could go anywhere and do anything. It was like having magic and freedom wrapped up in fluffy white clouds.” 

“I’d go for pizza and skee ball, " said Riley. “I’d get there at just as a fresh batch of pizza is coming out the oven and the whole place smells like baking bread and melting cheese. There’d be no lines for the machines I want to play on and my pockets would be weighed down by quarters.” 

“I’d be with my grandma.” Mac had felt a tiny shift in Desi’s body before she started to speak. It was rare for her to share anything personal and Mac felt his friends all grow still as if a wild animal had stepped out into their midst and there were afraid of startling it. “She passed away two years ago. I used to stand on a chair next to her and help her cook when I was little. She’d let me taste little bits of what we were making as we sang along with the radio. She loved to sing.” 

As Desi finished speaking the ground underneath the team moved. The dirt and stones gave a quiet rumble and shifted, sending pebbles and dust raining down. Mac watched one rock roll downward and followed it with his eyes as it bounced and disappeared over the edge and into the open air. He pushed his toes harder into the dirt and squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on breathing as he coughed around the dust filling his mouth, hoping his inhalations and exhalation would wash away the noisy whir of panic screaming inside his head. His thoughts stopped as his mind cleared of everything but his awareness of the twisting press of fear. 

The only other time Mac remembered such emptiness in his mind was when he’d been given morphine the first time he’d been shot. It didn’t take long for drug in his veins to fill his head with a soft, bland emptiness. He hadn’t noticed anything, calculated anything and the running commentary in his mind had faded into silence. It was like his thoughts had been replaced by something light, rich and honey coloured. Something drifting, amorphous and comforting. It had been wonderful. Restful. And the polar opposite of the numbing terror crippling his mind from functioning beyond gripping onto the things that were stopping him tumbling over the cliffs edge. 

An idea formed through the screaming in Mac’s head. The knowledge of where he would really want to be if he could be anywhere but where he was. He remembered being a small child sat at a work table with flannel clad arms around him. He wasn’t sure who the arms belonged to, they could have been his father’s or his grandfather’s, but he remembered that whoever was there was showing him how to use the tool he was holding in his fingers. He remembered the feeling of a chest against his back and strong arms around him and holding him close. Large, confident hands were moving his fingers to hold the tool properly, teaching him, helping him learn and know. He’d been surrounded by warmth and a certainly that he was safe and cared for. A million miles away from the chasm yawning behind him now with the unforgiving emptiness that threatened to take him. There had been a film he’d watched as a child where the antagonist was The Nothing. It came and took people away, destroying homes and lives, leaving a lonely, loveless void behind. That’s how he felt, like a Nothing was behind him reaching out with its claws to seize him and take him away. 

He shuddered and tightened his grip on the rock in his right hand, his palm sang with pain and he felt sure that if he looked he would find that it was bleeding. There was a tap on his other hand, the one curled around Desi. He felt it again. Then again, and he realised there was a pattern to the sensation of Desi’s thumb against his skin. She repeated it again and Mac focused on the taps. It was Morse code, he realised. She did it again and Mac finally understood her message. 

WEVE GOT YOU. 

Mac breathed. Concentrated. He knew Morse code, he couldn’t remember the name of the movie with the Nothing but he remembered Morse code. He’d used it on missions before. He’d used it to talk to his friends when there was an ostentatiously huge bomb set to explode underneath his house and he would us it now. He could reply. He focused and patted his forefinger on Desi’s wrist. 

THANK YOU. 

Bozer broke the silence that had fallen as the team waited for the ground beneath then to settle. “Is everyone okay?” 

“Yes.” Desi’s response was breathy and frail. “We’re good.” 

“Good.” Bozer knuckles were pale with the grip he had around Riley. “Good.” 

“Exfil shouldn’t be here soon.” Leanna called. “We just need to hang on for a little bit longer.” 

Riley coughed as the last of the floating dust settled around her, coating her in light brown powder. Mac could see her fight to control her breathing, turning frightened gasps into calmer breaths. He watched her lift her chin as she found her courage. “Hangin’ Tough.” She said, being brave for herself and for her friends. 

“You Keep Me Hangin’ On.” Desi added. 

“See, I knew that was a good game.” Leanna said. 

“Let it All Hang Out.” Was Bozer’s contribution, then, “does anyone else think they might have to use the bathroom soon?” 

“Babe.” The patience in Leanna’s voice was frayed around the edges. 

“Just wondering. You know, making conversation, keeping things real.” 

They lapsed into silence. Each of them waiting, hoping, and praying that the earth would stay stable beneath them for a little while longer. 

A noise echoed around the valley, a chopping, pulsing sound created by rotating blades cutting through the air bounced around the landscape. The team stirred, raising their heads to blink up at the sky. A pebble rolled past Mac but he managed not to watch it fall because he was staring upward. The noise sounded like – 

“I told you that I could spy something beginning with a C!” Bozer crowed. “Chopper! It’s a Phoenix exfil chopper!” 

C is for celebration, Mac thought, C is for cheerful, C is for comfort, C is for can’t believe this is nearly over. “Thanks, guys.” He called, cleaning his throat against the dust and emotion that had the potential to choke him. “For stopping me falling off the edge and then for helping me hold it together so I didn’t, you know,” he wasn’t sure if the analogy worked but how else could he say it, “go off the edge.” 

“Nothing says thank you like a cold beer.” Riley said. “You’re buying.” 

“They told me that working at the Phoenix could be pretty extreme,” Desi said, “but I didn’t know they meant stuff like this.” 

“This is nothing,” Bozer replied, “you should see our Christmas parties.” 

The sound of the chopper grew closer and soon it's helicopter blades were blowing air around them and whipping up dust to spin in wild circles. 

Mac closed his eyes against the displaced debris and felt Desi tap another message out on his hand. 

ITS OVER. 

Mac moved his finger to reply

LETS GO HOME

**Author's Note:**

> The film Mac can’t remember the title of is 80’s classic The Neverending Story. I’m going to have the theme song in my head for the rest of the day now, I apologise to anyone who has the same problem. 
> 
> I had fun writing this, it turns out that there are a surprising number of songs with the words ‘hanging’ ‘falling’ and ‘edge’ in the title. Wake Me When it’s Over is the title of a Willie Nelson song according to his discography on Wikipedia,. I’ve never heard it but if you hum a few bars I’ll have a go at joining in.
> 
> This was the first time I’ve written Desi and it was interesting because I have only one headcanon for her and it’s that she likes David Bowie, which is specific and not overly helpful. I have decided that she likes musicals too, I think she has a streak of whimsy hidden under her prickly exterior.


End file.
